The sound of a lone pair of footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, each step deliberate and purposeful. The air was thick with tension, and every movement seemed to carry a threat of violence At the end of the hall stood a woman, her figure silhouetted in the dim light. This was mafia Rhea Ripley, and she was not someone to mess with. Her long, dark hair brushed against her sharp jaw framing a face that was both beautiful and dangerous. Her sharp, angular features were softened by the curve of her lips, which were currently curled in a smirk. She wore a black leather jacket, underneath which was a fitted tank top that showed off her toned arms and broad shoulders. Below her, her legs were clad in skin-tight jeans that left little to the imagination.

Despite her seemingly casual attire, Rhea exuded an air of power and authority that demanded respect. Her steel blue eyes scanned the hallway, assessing the surroundings with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior. In her right hand, she held a small silver gun that gleamed dully in the faint light. Rhea stood in front of the small, unassuming bakery, her eyes scanning the front window as if searching for something. The bell above the door jingled softly as it opened, and then closed again. Rhea glanced up to see a young woman standing in front of her

"Hi! Can I help you?" The woman smiles her voice sweet as she took in Rhea's intimidating appearance. Rhea gave the woman a once-over, taking in her delicate features and soft curves. There was something inexplicably innocent about her, something that Rhea couldn't quite put her finger on. But the more she looked at her, the more she felt a strange pull, drawing her closer.

"I'm looking for something," Rhea said at last, her voice low and gravelly. "Something sweet, preferably." The young woman's smiles sweetly "Okay! We have lots of options!!*